


Deep

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, So many cliches, cliches, dean being a fairytale prince, dean being the best lay ever, gratuitous use of terms of endearment bc Dean, talking about sex during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: written for @purpleskiesandcherrypies 4K Tumblr Challenge.





	Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smolandgrumpy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/gifts).



Memories of clumsy hands, fingernails awkwardly scraping as they pushed inside, sloppy kisses and stale beer breath, guys who came too fast before she was even really wet – all of that and more is washed away by this one guy’s hands and lips. **  
**

She’s soaking through her underwear, shaking and breathing heavy. There’s an acute ache between her legs. She’s heard about it, read about it, but never experienced this level of being turned on. It’s a little scary, the intensity of it, the throbbing, the wetness. She’s afraid of making a mess.

He says something silly, laughs at himself, rolls to his back and looks up at her like she’s something.

“Gotta get ya outta your head,” he says with a smile, running big hands up over her knees, swallowing up and skimming the slim length of her thighs. She shivers when his hands slide under the hem of her jean skirt.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, lying there like the sweetest thing, like this is so easy, like he’s just this pleasing all the time. “Do you even wanna be here?” he laughs quietly.

“Yes,” she says, attempting to convey her enthusiasm. She’s overwhelmed, though, in awe. She’s unsure of how to express anything, being stunned to virtual paralysis. “I mean, I’m really wet,” she says dumbly, spreading her legs wider, pushing his t-shirt up and sliding over him, grinding over his belly.

Dean grins then bites his bottom lip on a quiet groan of giddiness and satisfaction. “Fuck yeah, y’are,” he breathes, his fingers dancing over her thighs below her hemline. “What do you like?” His eyes bleed black into green. That lushly verdant ring holds her attention and breath.

She shrugs and feels her face heat. “You,” she answers. It’s the only thing she can think of right now – him.

His grin and eyes soften. “C’mere,” he says, rolling to his side, laying her gently on her own. He keeps their legs entwined but not constricting as he settles them close enough to keep touching, yet distant enough so he can watch her face and body language.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever done?” he asks, gently stroking her cheek and shoulder with the backs of his knuckles. He smiles encouragingly and his eyes glimmer and shine.

He’s so in the moment, so into her. His gaze and touch are hypnotic, lulling, calming. “I like… I like it from behind,” she answers quietly, dropping her eyes.

Dean’s eyebrows and grin perk. “Yeah?” he asks, tilting into her line of sight. “What is it you like about it?” His hands roam, fingers dragging and caressing, teasing. He cups her cheek where it rests against her pillow and settles one hand over her hip as he pushes one knee between her legs.

She melts into a sigh, squeezes her legs around his, rolling her hips. “I like it deep.” Her breath shakes.

Dean nods and moves his leg to press further. “Hard?” he asks, licking his bottom lip.

She doesn’t look away this time and her cheeks flush. “Maybe, I dunno,” she answers. “It’s never very long.”

Dean looks almost sorry. “How ‘bout this?” he asks, maneuvering her hip to get his knee up against the warm, wet apex of her thighs. “Ya like this?”

She nods eagerly, letting him grind into her, letting go of her embarrassment over how wet she is. After all, it’s his fault.

Dean ducks in for a kiss, dragging his lips to her ear. “Tell me what you like about this,” he says, nibbling at the shell of her ear. “It’s not deep, not even close.”

She can hear the smile in his voice, feel it against her throat. She smiles in return.

“I like how hard and thick your thigh is,” she says, humming and licking her lips, shivering from his teeth scoring her collarbone. “How you don’t even care that I’m getting your jeans wet.”

“Oh, I care, alright,” Dean says, pushing her to her back, straddling one of her legs, looming above her. He keeps that knee hitched right up against her. His fists dig into the mattress on either side of her shoulders.  “I care a lot about how fucking wet you are and that I made you that way.” He takes her mouth with his, slides his tongue between her lips. She moans and arches into him.

He breaks their kiss to adjust his leverage and angle. “I wanna watch you come on my leg,” he says, breathing heavy, eyes flaring. “Think you can do that?” He sits back on his haunches, pulls her in tight by her hips to show her what he means.

“God, I hope so…” She gasps when Dean hikes the stiff denim of her skirt up around her waist, grips one hip hard and splays his other hand over her lower abdomen. He moves her against his knee, and she doesn’t know what else to do but feel.

She closes her eyes and lets her arms fall open, easy at her sides. “You feel so good,” she whispers. “Your hand’s so warm, and the weight of it… shit.”

“Good girl,” Dean commends her for telling him these things, these simple, sensual things. “Now, come like a good girl.” He slides the heel of his hand against the mound of flesh surrounding her clit then rubs and rubs until she does come, whining and writhing beneath him.

Dean flops beside her as she catches her breath. “Whaddaya think about when you come?” he asks, slipping his hand under her top to rest his palm over her bellybutton.

She slows her breath, staring at the ceiling. “Just then?” she starts, turning her head to meet his gaze when she continues. “I was thinkin’ about your mouth.”

Dean chuckles and drags her by her waist an inch or two closer, nuzzles into her neck. “Can I take your clothes off?” he asks, pressing soft kisses along the column of her throat. “Take these wet panties off at least,” he says, dropping a hand between her open legs and tracing the edge of one damp leg-opening. “Lemme lick you clean.”

“Yes, please,” she answers, spreading her legs wider for is access. She’s blissfully at his mercy.

Dean doesn’t waste a second. He pops up and over her, immediately hooks his fingers in the waistband of the fabric and peels it from her body. As he tosses the garment carelessly over his shoulder, he lets his gaze linger where she’s wet, licks his lips and falls on hands and knees over her lower half, his face hovering above her hips.

He snags her gaze and holds it as he slowly lowers his mouth to her skin.

First, he kisses her from hip bone to hip bone, dragging his lips along the way. Then, he smoothly hoists her knees over his shoulders and slides to the mattress, kissing her inner thighs and licking her just like he said he would.

“D’you know what you taste like?” he asks, licking one long swipe through her wet folds, thick arms wrapped around her thighs, hugging them to his shoulders, and using his fingers to keep her open for his tongue and lips.

She smiles dreamily down at him, shaking her head. “Not really,” she answers.

That impish little smirk twists Dean’s lips again and she feels his fingers slide where his tongue licked. She tenses and Dean coos to calm her. She feels his finger slide inside, no scraping, no awkwardness at all, just slick and twist and fuck, that one finger feels good.

Then that finger’s gone from between her legs. She realizes she’s closed her eyes when he slides up next to her and his wet fingertip taps her bottom lip. “Open up and taste,” he says.

She opens her mouth, holds his gaze as he slips his middle finger between her lips. “Hmm,” she moans and sucks, swirls her tongue around it. It’s senselessly erotic, sucking her own taste from his skin.

“What’s it taste like?” he asks, resting his cheek against his hunched shoulder, watching her close and soft.

She hums again as he pulls his finger free. “Sour?” she searches for the right words. “Salty, but maybe that’s you.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, you ain’t salty, sweetheart.” He dips in to kiss her lips. “You’re bright and tangy,” he whispers, and she nods. Those are the words she was looking for. “Tart, but just a little – right before you melt.” He brushes her nose with his and kisses her again, long and slow.

“I want you all the way naked,” he says, toying with the bottom edge of her top. “Can I?” He looks her in the eye, and he’s so close she can taste everything, feel everything.

She nods, smiles wide. “I’d like that,” she answers, and he sets to work.

Dean rises to his knees again, whips his own t-shirt over his head, and it flutters off into the dim light of her room. He grins down at her, gently pops the button and unzips the zipper of her skirt, drags it over her legs and off. Then he takes her hand, pulls her to sit and carefully removes her delicate top and sheer bra.

Before he lets her lie back, he hunches over her to kiss her again, holding her face in his hands and she almost faints from the fairytale-ness of it all.

She reaches for his belt, but he blocks her hands. “Nah, I ain’t done,” he says, pressing two fingers against her breastbone. “Lay back.”

She doesn’t argue. She just giggles as she lies back with Dean kneeling between her knees. “You’re gunnin’ for that number one spot, aren’t ya?”

“What number one spot?” he asks, dripping mock innocence, pretending like he doesn’t know what he does that’s so significantly better than so many other guys.

Dean kisses his way down her body, stopping to palm her breasts, swipe his tongue around her nipples and softly suck them into his mouth. His hands are warm and gentle but calloused and rough, and the feeling of them on her skin ignites something primal in her belly.

He settles back between her legs, pushes them open and out of his way and peppers light kisses over her swollen clit and lips. She laughs, throaty and satisfied, gasping when his tongue really dives in. “Shit,” she breathes. She grips the sheets and his close-cropped hair. She can’t help but make noise.

Dean pushes two fingers inside her to the second knuckle, rubs the pads of those fingers over that spot just behind her clit and she arches off the bed. “How’m I doin’?” he asks, looking up at her long enough to throw her a wink.

“Real good,” she replies, gasping for air.

“Good,” he says, setting his gaze back between her legs and the slide of his fingers to a steady, solid thrust. He squeezes one of her breasts in his free hand and takes her clit between his wet lips.

“Dean!” she shouts.

He doesn’t flinch. “S’OK, just let it happen,” he whispers, kissing and licking and sucking, fucking his middle and ring finger into her, shallow but precise, stroking that small patch of nerves.

A little voice inside her wonders when he’ll go deep. Then the bigger voice gasps and groans because she’s coming again with heat.

“Oh, my fucking god!” She surges against his face.

Dean nuzzles into the crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, letting her ride it out, slowing the movement of his fingers. Her smooth skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and it makes him proud to know he’s done that to her. He kisses her hip and slowly pushes himself up to kneeling, keeping a hand on her and reaching into his back pocket.

“Ready?” he asks, flipping the condom packet between his fingers like it’s a prize.

She grins lazily and sits up, shakes her hair out of her face and over her shoulders. “I dunno, man,” she says. “Not sure I got anything left in me.”

Dean grins back. “Well…” He drops the condom to the bed and shrugs. “We could just cuddle.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Uhh, no. I need your pants off, dude. Like now.”

Dean laughs right back. “OK, OK,” he says, his hands going to his buckle as she watches. He takes his time, teasing, slowly unbuckling his belt but not removing it, slipping the buttons from their holes one by one.

Her eyes darken and zero in on his actions. She licks and bites her lip. She exhibits all the signs of breathless anticipation.

“Commando, huh?” she says, arching a brow, refusing to pull her eyes from the treat before her.

Dean shrugs. “Sometimes,” he says quietly, enjoying the way she looks at him. He likes feeling wanted.

She watches him get rid of his jeans, watches as he unabashedly moves back to face her, naked and hard and all hers. Then she flicks her eyes up to meet his and smiles.  “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She thinks she sees him blush at her words, but her room is too dim to swear it.

Dean shakes his head. “You are,” he says, cupping her cheek and kissing her. Just as she’s heating up again, Dean gives her a simple order. “Lay on your belly.”

Thrill ripples through her. The thought of it makes her feel vulnerable and sexy. She can only imagine what’s to come so she clears her mind to just enjoy it as she does what he’s told her to do.

Once she’s settled, Dean straddles her hips. She hears a cap flip and grins. She knows what it is because she opens that cap every night. It’s the lotion she leaves by her bed. After a few seconds, she hears the telltale sound of Dean rubbing his hands together, the creamy substance squelching pleasantly as it undoubtedly warms in his palms.

Then his hands are on her, thumbing alongside her spine, fingertips caressing her ribcage. He deftly massages, pressing heat into her muscles. She sighs and feels her legs fall open.

Dean digs into the tightness between her shoulder blades until she feels like a puddle of goo. She moans when he grips the flesh of her ass, squeezes and pulls her open, slides his thumbs along her crack.

“Jesus,” she whispers. “Do it. Please.” She squirms under him and he slides backward a bit, slips a finger inside her.

“You’re makin’ a mess, sister,” he chuckles. “I like it.” He pushes another finger inside and she hears the wrapper of the condom tear, imagines him tearing it with his teeth while he fingers her; all the while, she’s obedient and wanting beneath him.

Dean keeps her legs together with his own as he pulls her open again from behind. She feels his heavy length rub into her wetness, feels the broad head of his cock press against her slick hole. “We good?” he asks, and she lets go a shaky breath, nodding.

“Yeah,” she breathes, gripping the sheets, bracing herself.

He pushes inside her slowly, inching in and out, stretching her opening. “Fuck,” he hisses, his fingers tightly gripping her cheeks. “You feel so good.” It takes him a few more passes before his hips meet her ass. When they do, he stills. “So good.”

She told him that she liked it from behind, but she’d never felt it like this before. He’s in deep, yeah, but she also feels fuller than she’s ever felt like this. She can feel all of him, every inch and ridge. She arches her back, popping her ass up higher, so greedy.

“Hoooo,” he breathes out, rests one big hand on the curve of her waist and grips one of her hands with his other. “Gonna move now.” He pulls back, pushes in, his knees and shins caging her legs, his hands holding her in place.

“Dean, please,” she whimpers. “Hard.”

“Yeah?”

She can hear him gritting his teeth around the word. “Yeah,” she answers.

“A’right,” he groans.

He pulls back again then snaps his hips, and she sucks in air, buries her face in her pillow. This is everything she hoped but never knew it could be. This is more than deep. This is all things.

Dean pounds her hard and slow. He rears back on his feet and her calves, dragging her hips with him to get the best angle. “C’mon.” He wraps an arm around her waist and lifts until she’s upright in his lap. “Tell me how you feel,” he says, pushing her hair over the front of one shoulder and dropping kisses to her skin.

“Jesus, Dean,” she breathes, riding him like a natural born cowgirl. “Use your teeth. Bite me, god, I can’t-” She reaches behind her to grip the back of his head, holding him to her neck.

Dean slides a hand between her legs and slips a finger inside her with his swelling cock, curls it and squeezes her mound in his palm as he sinks his teeth into her thick trapezius muscle, and she cries out.

“Shit!”

She comes hard and loud. And it’s wet, all sensation and riotous bliss.

Dean pushes her chest and face into the mattress and rails into her. He fucks her through her wet climax into another trembling mess before pulling out and tossing the condom aside. Then she feels him coming on her ass and thighs, and she groans into the covers.

He sighs heavily and wraps his fingers around her hip to pull her down with him as they both catch their breath. Everything’s wet and soft and hazy. She feels laughter bubbling in her chest.

As she starts to giggle Dean acts like he’s offended. He smacks her ass playfully, and she shrieks. “Dude, that was…” She rolls to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Oh, no, thank you,” he says, leaning in for another long kiss.

She melts into the fluffy bedding, forgetting everything else she’s ever known but him.


End file.
